


The 5.22 to Storybrooke

by retrinazambrano



Series: OQ Prompt Party [11]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, OQ Prompt Party 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-04-06 15:09:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19065136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrinazambrano/pseuds/retrinazambrano
Summary: Two weary passengers, one packed train and no seats.





	The 5.22 to Storybrooke

**Author's Note:**

> For OQ Prompt Party 2019.
> 
> Prompts:  
> 62\. Stuck on a crowded train  
> 162\. Regina speaks to Robin for the first time
> 
> I've used creative licence for the jobs themselves.

The 5.22pm from the city of Misthaven back into the sleepy town of Storybrooke is nothing short of a nightmare journey. Every day, scores of commuters, tired from a long day's work, brace themselves for the ride even conductors name 'the Sardine Express.'

Robin Locksley is one of those who catches this train every single day, almost without fail. The 5.22 gets him to Storybrooke at 6.15, just in time to pick up his son Roland without having to pay his childminder for an extra hour.

Regina Mills-Colter is another commuter, albeit one that doesn't take this particular train religiously. She has markedly fewer commitments back in Storybrooke than Robin, can leave her sixteen-year-old son Henry to his own devices whilst she works late, but today, she's had a tough one, and just wants to return home to her big white house, with its big white bath and slip underneath some big warm bubbles.

Robin leaves his office late. He's normally out by 5.05 at the latest, but, as he runs the three blocks to Misthaven station, his watch tells him it's 5.12. Oh shit. He's either not going to get a seat or, worse, he's going to miss the train completely.

Regina takes a deep breath as she steps out of her office at 4.55. It's the first time she's left before 8pm this week, and just as well it's a Friday; it feels like a long weekend. She doesn't know the train timetable at all, so she takes a leisurely stroll the three blocks to the station, taking in the sunshine, and she'll take the first train to Storybrooke she sees. It feels good to be the first one out of the office.

It's the final whistle he hears as he races onto the platform, then another, and another, and the conductor is kind enough to let him squeeze through the double doors mere seconds before they close. He's out of breath (God, he needs to go to the gym), chest falling and rising in short, sharp pumps, and the way he jumps on has him bumping rather unceremoniously into other passengers, earning him several dirty looks and an echo of tuts. He apologises to those around him profusely, but really, he's annoyed by their distaste.

Regina underestimated the time it would take for her to get to the station. By the time she arrived - with a comfortable five minutes to spare - all the seats had been taken, and she was relegated to standing by the doors. She tucks herself into one of the corners for balance and sighs, texting her son to tell him she'd be home earlier than usual.

The train pulls away within thirty seconds of 5.22. Robin gets his breath back eventually, carefully peeling off his jacket, very aware of how sweaty he may be.

Regina looks up when a stray elbow hovers a little too close to her face. Said elbow belongs to the man who only just made the train and she's about to look back down at her phone when the train stutters some, and this guy trips backwards, right into Regina's space. She's quick to put her hands up, watching as he grabs onto a nearby pole so she doesn't take the full force of his weight.

Righting himself, Robin takes a breath and turns to the lady who broke his (almost) fall, again apologising for his clumsiness.

Regina's face could not be described as anything less than annoyed. She has to fight to remove her eyeballs from the inside of her head, in fact, but when she gets a good look at the man, she can't help but smirk a little. He's handsome, a silver fox, with blue, blue eyes and hints of what she thinks may be dimples. "No need to apologise," she purrs, "I'm used to having men fall at my feet."

Oh, that's what it's like, is it? Robin thinks to himself. Game on. "What, backwards?" He shoots back, and watches as the lady before him shrugs.

Unexpected accent. "Backwards, forwards… either way, they go weak at the knees."

"Or they could simply be the victim of a braking train," he levels back. "I don't suppose you considered that possibility."

Annoyance sweeps across her pretty face again. "I prefer the first."

"Much better for the ego," he quips. He doesn't expect the conversation to continue then, so, with a cheeky smile, he turns away, satisfied he's stunned the lady into silence.

There's a beat before Regina replies with, "True, but there's nothing to massage any ego when we're both standing in this big tin can."

Robin turns back to his equally suffering companion. "It's normally like this ten minutes before departure."

"Really?" She asks, "Why don't they add more carriages if they have such an issue with this service? We're all humans, we need space."

"I agree with you," Robin tells her. "Normally I'm on here about fifteen minutes before, so I see it fill up and, I'm not joking, I've seen some things in the last five minutes before we leave. I call it the final countdown," he says, mentally telling himself not to sing those last three words.

"Oh?" Regina inquires, interested in chatting with this man she's never met before. "Like what?"

"Well, there's been the odd heated word, of course, but a few weeks back, two men really got into it, shouting, swearing, there was some shoving… they had to remove them from the train and we got back two hours late." He shakes his head. "Had to have my son stay with his childminder for longer and he was not happy about that either."

The brunette nods, making a mental note to spare herself twenty minutes if she aimed for this train in the future. "I can understand your son, but we're all in the same boat - train - here. Why get so angry?"

"Well, I heard that one of them accidentally elbowed the other in the groin. That would be enough to get someone angry, huh?" He laughs a little then, and Regina can't help but chuckle herself.

"Quite."

They go quiet then, both listening to the distant sounds of the engine, the occasional cough and muted chatter from the seats around them. A few seats free up after the first stop, but they're quickly snapped up by other, luckier commuters, giving those standing precious space to move.

"That's better, huh?" Robin says as he settles himself in the opposite corner of the carriage.

"Much," Regina nods. "It's still unforgivably warm in here, but hey, look." Regina reaches her arms out in front of herself. "I have a personal bubble!"

Robin mirrors the action and laughs. "Feels like I've been let out of jail!"

She laughs back and, in a move uncharacteristic for Regina Mills-Colter, she continues to speak. "So, you said you have a son?"

Robin grins and nods enthusiastically. "Yep! Roland. He's five."

"A good age," Regina notes. "My son is sixteen, so you can imagine what that's like."

The Brit grimaces at that. "Can't wait for Roland to get to that awkward age. I just hope he's nothing like I was then."

Regina laughs and sags back some against the wall of the carriage. "A tearaway, huh?"

"And then some," he tells her. "Used to get myself into all kinds of scrapes. We weren't really bad, just cheeky, I guess, but we got into enough trouble."

She nods, understanding where he's coming from. "I got pregnant at seventeen, so I sort of know what you mean. My mother saw that as bad."

Robin sighs and looks at her, nodding. "It's what you make of it, right? I have to say, I did think you looked a little young to have a teenager."

"I get that a lot. I'm a-hundred-and-fifty-seven, but you know, a monthly juice cleanse does wonders for the skin," she smirks.

"Ah, yes, three years til the big one-six-oh," Robin teases. "I hope I look as good as you do then!" Oh, well, he's just admitted he finds her attractive. Looking at her expression, though, she's unfazed.

"I'll invite you to the party," she grins. She's flirting now, and Regina hasn't flirted with a man for what feels like years, not since Daniel died.

They go quiet again then. Robin realises then that the woman has essentially sort of said they should stay in touch and now, he's not ready for this horrendous journey to end. More space frees up at the next station, but they still remain standing.

"There's a seat there if you want to take it," Robin chivalrously offers.

Regina shakes her head. "We started this journey together… so we're in it together."

He thinks a fist bump will follow, but it doesn't come. Sometimes, his thoughts amuse himself. "So, what takes you into Misthaven today? I get this train every day and I've never seen you before."

"I work there," she tells him. "I'm a columnist, and I tend to do my best work when there's a time crunch, so I spend the late afternoon chasing a print deadline, and rarely leave til after seven at the earliest. Eleven isn't unheard of."

Robin's eyes widen as she talks. "So you really throw yourself into your work, huh? What kind of stuff do you write?"

Regina hesitates then, before deciding there's no shame in it. "Relationship advice. For the Misthaven News."

It all clicks into place for him then; he always skims over those columns towards the back of the paper, before, he'd occasionally read it when the headline was interesting and he was bored, but of late, he'd been reading that particular paper's relationship columns frequently, only taking a cursory glance at the tiny fuzzy picture of the author of all that advice.

"Regina Mills-Colter," he announces and she nods. "Wow, I know your articles. Almost considered writing in once."

"Yeah?" She asks, realising then that she doesn't know his name, but she feels like she's known him a long time, somehow. "Why didn't you? Who knows? Maybe I would have picked it."

He shrugs. "My ex-wife and I split up and… yeah. I guess I thought I'd do it alone. And no, don't worry, I'm not going to ask you for advice right now." He feels awkward mentioning Marian, but then again, he always feels that way when she's mentioned. They're over, done, and he needs to get a move on moving on.

"Don't worry, I'd have to start charging by the minute," she smiles, diffusing some of the tension in the air. "You know me, but I don't know you. What's your name? What's your story?"

He relaxes then. "I'm Robin Locksley."

"Nice to meet you, Robin Locksley."

"And you, Regina. In terms of story, if you mean my job," (to that she shrugs), "I'm a talent scout."

"That's not one I hear often… or at all," she says, interested. "A talent scout. What do you specialise in?"

"Music, actually. Musicians. My boss says I have a knack for knowing the next big thing when I hear it," he tells her. "So it's kinda like field work at times. At weekends, I go out and listen to whichever local music scene I'm required to, then during the week, my boss gives me a pile of demos and tells me to cherry pick the best. I feel like I crush dreams, but I also make them come true, if you see what I mean?"

"Absolutely," Regina nods. "I've never met a talent scout before, and I come across all sorts in my job."

"I can imagine. So yeah, this," he tells her, holding up a bag, "contains a laptop with a few of the shortlisted artists we're looking at offering a deal to." His voice drops an octave as he says, "and if the name Rumplestiltskin becomes familiar to you," he grins, "then you heard it here first."

Regina returns his smile, noting the name, listening as Robin tells her that this band is unlike any other he's heard; indie/alt with an industrial edge, and he's very excited to see where they go. She's about to reply when she sees two free seats opposite one another just by Robin. "Fancy a seat?"

Seeing how the carriage has emptied some, and how no one has made a beeline for the seats, he nods and they sit themselves down.

"So, what I was going to say - our entertainment editor is looking for a new, exciting band to cover, give a bit of promo to. Do you think Rumplestiltskin fit the bill?"

"Oh without a doubt! Why, do you think she'd be interested?"

"Absolutely. Emma has always got her finger on the pulse, but she may not have this lot on her radar." Robin's eyes light up then, and Regina already loves how enthusiastic he is about his job, even having known him thirty minutes.

"You know what? If that's the case…" he tails off as he rummages through the front pocket of his laptop bag, pulling out a small card. "Get her to give me a call."

Regina looks down at the card and the smallest part of her is envious that it's Emma this card - his number - is meant for, not her. She shakes the thought away (she's not ready to date again! She's not) and nods. "I shall do."

The next stop is Storybrooke. As the usual announcement continues, both give each other a wistful look. "This is me," Robin says, and Regina's head tilts.

"Me too," she tells him, only ever so slightly happy that their interaction is not going to end in the next thirty seconds (she's lying; she likes this man).

\------

The walk off the train and onto the platform, then to the barriers and entrance is full of music; personal likes and dislikes and more professional side of things, and they stop to chat some more once they leave the station.

"This is me," she eventually says, head angled in the direction of the car park. "Can I give you a lift?" Stranger danger be damned, and God, had it been Henry who had done this, he would be in the doghouse.

"It's alright," he tells her, "I've got to get my son, and I don't want you to go out of your way. Besides, he's already quite the ladies man, and I'm sure he'll be besotted with you." She goes to protest, albeit with a smile on his face at his words, but he insists. "It's been great talking to you Regina. Take care."

"And you."

She stands there watching as he turns and begins to walk away. She's about to leave herself, when he stops and goes back over.

"You know, Rumplestiltskin have a gig at the Firefly Hall next Saturday. Don't suppose you'd like to be my plus one?" He hesitates after that, before adding, "give them your seal of approval before you recommend them to your friend?"

Oh, Emma's definitely her friend now. "Really?"

"Really."

"Yes, I'd like that," she says with barely concealed excitement. She's not been to a concert since just before Daniel's diagnosis, and truth be told, she's missed it; the buzz, the anticipation of hearing music live and not knowing the set list, living in the moment, soaking in that atmosphere.

"Well, excellent! You have my number, text or call me and we'll set it up."

She digs into her pocket and pulls out the card he gave her earlier. "Oh, I do."

His teeth sink into his bottom lip before he says, "do it now."

His demand is met with split-second confusion, but it dawns on Regina as she pulls out her phone, taps in his number and hits call.

"Gotcha," he smiles, looking at the numbers flashing across the screen. Within a few seconds, the number is saved. "I'll see you Saturday, Regina."

"See you Saturday, Robin."


End file.
